Tuesday, 10 August 2010

WARDS.

Though we may gravitate towards the tin openerI still believe we can tell the difference betweenA giver and a taker,Even if some people can’t tell their pastFrom a smouldering wound,And are incapable of moving on.

My play list is littered with bitter criticsBut I’m still prepared to watch the clock stoppedAction again and be objective,And realise I didn’t always performWith the skill of my abilities,Or with their best interests at heart,

But some just can’t, or won’t or simply don’t want toRespond to the obvious judgementsTime has made against our cases,And insist they were not responsibleFor their half of the time share apartmentThey once invested in;

They believe they were controlled by a scullery’s rota In order to force through cleaning schemes, Or weren’t afforded enough rest In which to stew their futures in,And are left with a mess that simply settles When they finally get out of bed.

And that’s fine and that’s cool and their rulesWill no doubt still apply to other roomsThey will eventually inhabit,But my stab at it was fatal and that’s that,And now I’ve evolved and am attached to the thatchThat covers my new lover’s kitchen.